


Eight Hundred and Thirty-Five Miles

by RulerOfTravels



Category: Zombieland (2009)
Genre: Alcohol, Everyone Is Gay, Hand Jobs, M/M, Masturbation, Oral Sex, Porn with Feelings, Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-20
Updated: 2020-04-10
Packaged: 2021-02-27 03:27:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 11,576
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22330312
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RulerOfTravels/pseuds/RulerOfTravels
Summary: The world as we know it is ending, and all Columbus can think about is whether he’ll survive long enough to suck Tallahassee’s dick.
Relationships: Columbus/Tallahassee (Zombieland)
Comments: 23
Kudos: 201





	1. Chapter 1

  
  
  


**Columbus** sat shotgun with his shotgun on the floor of the black SUV.  He let himself get comfy in the leather co-pilot seat as Tallahassee told yet another outlandish story about his checkered past. Columbus watched the older man’s eyes, bright with interest, wrapped up in the drama and pacing of his own story. This kind of energy always peaked at midday, with visibility and mobility at their best. Things seemed a little brighter for them right now.

A few years ago, Columbus established that he was bisexual. The lights had gone on in his mind, and he was never one to deny his fears or desires, as long as those impulses fell within his Rules. He lived by a strict set of rules made by himself for himself. He wouldn’t battle what felt right. He just kept most everything to himself.

Columbus recognized and accepted the fact that he was attracted to Tallahassee, and not just because the cowboy was possibly the last real person for thousands of miles. Columbus’ entire body was reacting to being near the man. Since they’d become passably comfortable with each other over hours of driving and zombie slaying, Columbus’ feelings unwavering. Columbus had tried to deny it, but no amount of willpower could stop the ideas from cementing.

But what could he do? Even if they were the last two men on earth, he was ninety-nine point-nine percent sure that Tallahassee was straight.

So, start from the beginning and focus on the positives. 

Several days had passed since they met, and Columbus held no expectations that the wandering cowboy would open up to him any further than sharing these odd stories. They were both loners, and their code was one of independence. This thing with Tallahassee, if it was a thing, was delicate. Columbus had always been a cautious person, gathering data wherever possible, planning his own actions, and learning from everyone else’s reactions. Overthinking had helped him survive this far.

Columbus had learned early on that Tallahassee appreciated his listening ears as they traveled. But the only time the older man was genuinely emotional was when he talked about the puppy he’d lost during the initial zombie outbreak. Columbus caught a glimpse of the lonely depths that lingered just below the surface of Tallahassee's personality. 

There was a lot more to him than the tall tales, gory details, and overall prickly persona he’d wrapped himself in to survive in this hellish landscape. The man had wild talent, operated with skill, and was wholly dedicated to every task he set himself to. He declared that he loved killing zombies, he celebrated loudly at small victories, and he wailed in anger when things didn’t go his way. He was seemingly without a sense of humanity in several key aspects of his character, but Columbus couldn’t think of a more monkey-brained type of creature.

It had to be a good mark on the cowboy’s character that the two of them, as different as they were, continued to travel together peacefully. 

Columbus smiled to himself, and realized that he had been happy for the last few days, _really_ happy. Tallahassee made him feel safe, which was a big deal for someone with his nerves, in Zombieland of all places. The fiery cowboy had demonstrated his prowess as the workhorse of their temporary team, eliminating threats wherever needed, and driving them for hours on end with no complaints. He’d also spared Columbus from potential injury a handful of times. 

Columbus wished he had the courage to just lean over and pat Tallahassee’s shoulder once. Just a little pat of encouragement. A comforting gesture. That’s what a friend would do, right? That was a normal human thing to do?

But he didn’t, of course. He calculated that Tallahassee wouldn’t respond well. From the moment they met, the douchey cowboy gave off very clear “no touchie” vibes.

The younger man focused on another positive fact: Tallahassee was comfortable enough with him to share some slightly more personal stories, even if the events of such were clearly exaggerated. 

  
  


Presently, Tallahassee’s story came to an end, with little to no reaction from a pensive Columbus. The cowboy coughed, and Columbus jolted to attention.

“W-what-- What’s up?” he stuttered.

Tallahassee sighed. He looked sidelong at Columbus. 

“You checked out there for a hot minute. Somethin’ on your mind?”

“Oh... yeah kinda. Sorry,” Columbus said. _But not something to share… at least not yet,_ he thought.

“Uh. Could you stop the car for a second? I... have to go to the bathroom.”

The older man rolled his eyes, an impatient expression that required no words.

“It’ll just take a second… Pull over anywhere,” he requested, adding hastily, “Please.”

Tallahassee nodded and started to slow down. 

Columbus was thankful that the older man didn’t ask any questions about his bathroom habits. Tallahassee could be disgusting about some things, but he respected Columbus’ privacy. 

As the car rolled to a stop, Columbus opened his door and muttered a thanks before grabbing his shotgun and jogging off behind some large bushes by the road. There was a pleasant clearing with birds and wildflowers, very peaceful. After searching around the area and making sure it was clear of monsters, Columbus breathed a sigh of relief and sat down in the grass, running a shaky hand through his curly hair. 

For once, he didn’t really need to go to the bathroom. He just had to get out of that car for a second and sort through his thoughts. He closed his eyes and took several deep breaths. The more he thought about getting back in the car, the more he felt his heart pounding. He was shaking a little more than usual, too. This wasn’t just the fight-ready adrenaline like he’d experienced almost non-stop since the first day he’d seen a zombie. He was jittery and stressed… because he was around Tallahassee. And he knew it was more than just social anxiety.

He knew Tallahassee thought, 'what a nuisance, this kid', but he wasn’t nasty about it.

Columbus came from a family of paranoid and weak-stomached people, but what they lacked in stamina, they made up for in preparedness. He’d learned to control and curate as much of his world as possible. Columbus was determined to get on Tallahassee’s good side and earn his respect, he just had to find the right lever that didn't involve breaking any of his Rules.

The eye-rolling was somewhat discouraging, but they were still together. The cowboy wasn’t going to leave him in the dust, but Columbus’ deeper hopes and desires seemed unattainable if he could hardly talk to this man and get to know him _personally_ , let alone make a move on him. 

And even if he did manage to make his feelings known somehow, how would the fiery cowboy react? He couldn’t imagine who would make the first move. It was too much to hope that Tallahassee would make any step of this process easy. Columbus couldn’t bear the thought of the harsh rejection that he knew he would get from Tallahassee if he didn’t say or do just the right thing. 

And at the end of the day, didn’t know how long they’d be able to travel together while the apocalypse simmered around them. 

If Columbus spilled the beans too early, the older man might treat him with even more distance and annoyance than usual. Worst case scenario, Tallahassee would yell at him, possibly smack him upside the head, and then throw him out of the car in the middle of nowhere. He’d be on his own again.

Best case scenario... Columbus wasn’t really sure. The world was so fucked up now, anything was possible. He just needed some kind of answer, a simple 'yes' or 'no', so he would know if there was something that the older man would warm to.

His mind swam with doubts. Were these feelings just the result of a desperate loneliness that had claimed him at last? Or was the denial of said feelings the final strike on his humanity?

He wanted to believe that his feelings towards Tallahassee were valid, but whenever he was around the older man, he second-guessed himself into inaction. The stakes were just too high.

Columbus sat behind the bushes for a while, staring off into space, and trying helplessly to calm himself down. 

_Maybe I should try to forget the whole thing._

Every time he felt like he had a grip on his nerves and was ready to get up and get back in the car, a new fearful thought arose. He needed more alone time to think. Funny how he’d been on his own forever, and now that was the bitch of it. The world as they knew it was ending, and all he could think about was whether he’d survive long enough to suck Tallahassee’s dick.

Columbus sighed heavily. Despite the anxieties, all this thinking about Tallahassee had gotten him pretty aroused. 

What a week.

He’d get back in the car shortly, but first, he had to relax. He dared a glance back at the car, and saw that Tallahassee was sitting with his feet up, listening to a CD, and checking a state map. 

Columbus set his trusty shotgun on the grass beside him, unzipped his jeans and pulled his boxers down. His hard-on curved up eagerly as it was freed. He hissed as the comparatively cold air blew over his hot skin, and he was quick to spit into his palm and wrap his hand around his neatly circumcised length. He gasped as he began to slide his hand up and down, knowing he didn’t have much time, moving quickly with equal parts purpose and desperation. If he got a little chaffed, so be it.

He shut his eyes tight as visions of Tallahassee swam through his head. Would the cowboy touch him roughly like this, giving Columbus what he wanted even if it made his flesh red and raw? Or would he be more gentle, teasing morsels of pleasure out of him at his own pace until Columbus begged for release? 

Columbus bit his lip to keep himself quiet, and turned on his side slightly to not make a mess of himself in the moments ahead. He pumped his erection faster and faster, bucking his hips weakly until he came with a gasp, shooting himself onto the dusty grass.

He panted and relaxed for a moment, lying back on the soft ground, not caring if his clothes got grass stains. Just thinking about Tallahassee’s workman hands on his body had brought him over the edge, and it was a much needed release. Even as quick and dirty as it was, that had been the best handjob he’d given himself since before the outbreak. 

After a minute, Columbus regained his wits and zipped himself back up before standing and brushing the dirt off his pants. He fished the travel-size bottle of hand sanitizer out of his back pocket and used it on his hands.

“Ah- _hem_!”

An irritated cough came from the other side of the bushes.

Columbus jumped up and cursed under his breath as he fumbled for his shotgun with sanitizer-slicked hands.

“Everything okay back there?” Tallahassee didn’t sound impatient, only concerned.

“Don’t sneak up like that! I’ll be just a second,” he managed a normal-ish voice.

In a few seconds he heard Tallahassee’s booted steps back on the gravel on the side of the road. 

Columbus thought that nothing could scare him like that since the literal apocalypse started, but then Tallahassee came along. The man was a whirlwind of violence and sass, but he was strangely magnetic.

Heading back to the car, Columbus felt like he could handle riding with Tallahassee now without being too weird. The cowboy couldn’t read his thoughts (he hoped), and would probably not be too keen to strike up any deep conversations during the rest of their drive.

“Thanks,” Columbus mumbled as he stepped into the car and fastened his seat belt. Tallahassee just nodded and started the engine, and they were on the road again.

  
  


Columbus was safe inside his head, looking out the window as the deserted countryside sped past. He thought about the world ending, and how they were probably going to end up zombies eventually, but mostly he thought about his feelings for Tallahassee. 

Could he trust these feelings at all? Was it just because Tallahassee was his savior and Columbus had developed some kind of complex about it and mistook that for real feelings? How would he ever tell the man that he trusted him, respected him, wanted him, and got hard just thinking about him? 

...Though it would probably be best to leave that last confession out.

Columbus was deep in his thoughts, worrying and planning. 

The car was quiet as evening fell, and he dozed off.

  
  
  
  
  
  


* * *

  
  
  
  
  
  


Meeting Wichita and Little Rock was... a trip.

Before that particular incident, almost two weeks had passed without Tallahassee and Columbus seeing or hearing another actual person.

Columbus’ first thought was, what are the odds they found a fully stocked grocery store _and_ a very attractive woman and her sweet little sister inside? 

No twinkies, though. Maybe the universe was trying to warn them with that detail.

  
  
  


As the conwomen drove off with most of their hard-earned guns and supplies, Columbus felt oddly relieved. 

“Well that happened,” he said lamely. 

Columbus wasn’t happy about losing all their stuff, but now he was _really_ stuck with the cowboy and they had plenty more opportunities to learn about each other. 

At the moment, however, the older man was unapproachable. He was more than a little pissed, and didn’t say a thing for several minutes. He only glared daggers at the retreating SUV until it disappeared out of sight.

“Now I gotta find a new ride,” Tallahassee sighed at length. The cowboy turned his head and spat on the ground. “Y’know, this is exactly why I stayed a bachelor. Women promise you freedom… just at first. Then before you know it, they end up taking everything with them at gunpoint.” 

“Why didn’t you just… shoot them?” Columbus asked with some difficulty. 

Tallahassee didn’t answer. Columbus saw his hands clenching and unclenching at his sides, like he was imagining strangling someone.

For a second there, back in the grocery storeroom, Columbus has expected to watch a little girl get shot in the face. Any outcome would be preferable to that, so he was almost glad it turned out this way. Those girls probably deserved that loot more than they did. 

_What am I thinking?_ Columbus admonished himself. In the current survival scenario, it wasn’t about who deserved what. It wasn’t really _about_ anything anymore. All they had was each other, and their choices in the moment. 

“They mighta’ won the battle,” Tallahassee growled. “But now, it’s fuckin’ _war_.” 

He had a murderous look in his eyes. It was only subtly different from the look he got right before hacking the head off of a zombie. 

Columbus winced. “You’re gonna, what, hunt them down?”

“It’s what I’m good at.”

“That’s true I guess, but--”

“You _guess?_ ” The cowboy shook his head. “You’re not seriously suggesting we should _forgive and forget_ ?” He took a few steps around them, arms spread wide. “Open your eyes, kid! We’re in god-forsaken Zombieland. The fact we survived this long while everyone else got royally _fucked_ , means this is _our_ world now. No laws, no societal constructs to hold us back. Not even God is here anymore. We are the judge, the jury, and executioner.” 

Tallahassee's eyes were wild now. He looked like he might cry, as peered into the distance without seeing it. He lowered his arms and looked back at Columbus, words coming out through tense jaws. “You got some weak little _rulebook_ you play by? Well I don’t. All I know is what’s best for me. You can do whatever the hell you want. But that’s my piece.”

Columbus let a moment pass as he digested Tallahassee's words.

“We have the freedom to make our own choices, you’re right about that,” he agreed. “But you know it couldn’t hurt to just _try_ what I’m good at for a change.”  
  
“Which is?”  
  
_Ouch._

“Which is _running_ and _hiding_ so we don’t, y’know, get caught up in stupid traps with--”

“Woah now, kid--”  
  
“--With actual personal consequences, and so we don’t have time to-- to--”

Columbus choked off the sentence.

_To wallow in our losses quite so much. So we can keep on our toes with these survival games and try not to miss how forgiving the world used to be._

Now, those sisters upset their entire groove and stole all their shit. But would Tallahassee really shoot a little girl? Columbus felt despair grip him at that thought. His admiration for this cowboy had grown every day for the past few weeks, but this test had nearly broken them. Could the man be trusted?

Columbus couldn’t stop the tears of anger and fear welling up in his eyes. 

Talahassee turned fully toward Columbus and aimed a withering look, comparable to his steely expression when they first met with their weapons drawn. There was a hard edge to this glare that felt a lot like being held at gunpoint. 

“What.” his voice was flat.

“Y-you.” Columbus swallowed thickly. “Tell me-- tell me right out. I want the truth. You’d... shoot those girls and make _me_ an accessory to murder? After everything we’ve been through?”

Tallahassee’s nostrils flared. He did not like the “we” statements.

“Shut the fuck up.”

Columbus sniffed, bracing himself through a sob. His body was shaking, and he shut his eyes tight, forcing more tears out. 

He was suspended in despair for a long moment. Could things get any worse?

“H… Hey, kid. I didn’t mean that.”

The words seeped into Columbus’ awareness like a soothing vapor. 

Then Tallahassee's arms wrapped around his shoulders.

Columbus held his breath as he found himself pressed against the older man’s chest. He felt the warmth of his muscular body. His own arms rose up to grasp the man’s shoulders from behind. It was a minute before the reality of this position really sunk in and Columbus was calmed.

“Alright kid? Now, I’m... Sorry for scaring you. I won’t hurt ‘em.” 

Tallahassee patted Columbus’ back reassuringly, making him hiccup. 

“They’re long gone now anyway, odds are we’ll never cross paths again...”

In that moment, Columbus discovered that Tallahassee had rules, too, even if he denied it. He put a lot of effort into seeming aloof and indifferent, but there were rules deep down. They were nothing like Columbus’ carefully organized and logical principles, but they were at least something. 

That gave him hope.

He held tightly to Tallahassee’s shoulders. He didn’t care if it was weird, he just needed a few more seconds of this embrace before he could let go.

“Now wipe your nose, we got supplies to gather.” Tallahassee started to pull away.

“Just a second.” Columbus whispered fiercely. Tallahassee didn’t protest, holding him solidly and breathing with him.

At length, they separated and Columbus gathered himself up again.

  
  


This professional zombie-killer cowboy could be a douche sometimes, but he was trustworthy. He hadn’t rode off into the sunset yet. He remained by Columbus’ side, and that said a lot. 

Hardships, if they were survivable, brought people together. Maybe the two of them could survive long enough to grow even closer together, preferably without further pain and humiliation.

* * *

Columbus awoke to the sound of heavy breathing outside his bedroom door. He scrambled upright in bed, hands immediately on his trusty shotgun. His ears strained to capture the source of the low sound and assess the threat.

  
  


After they found a new SUV that Tallahassee approved of, the two had set up camp in a rustic-styled and very nicely furnished timber mansion that they’d found by taking some back roads a couple miles off the main highway. No zombies appeared for the entire drive, and they checked the entire mansion over twice before relaxing and making use of the luxurious bathrooms and bedrooms. It was a deluxe countryside mansion, and there was still running water from the dedicated well on the property, though it was cold. Any clean and safe environment was a gift, and they relished the comforts.

They talked and played cards for a couple hours after dinner, then settled for claiming adjacent bedrooms on the third floor of the house. Easiest areas to defend. 

Columbus wanted to make an excuse for sleeping in the same room as Tallahassee, but knew the older man wouldn’t have it. It wasn’t yet time to try anything on the restless cowboy.

And Columbus had been _so_ confident and felt _so_ safe at bedtime. But now…

  
  


The darkness of the unfamiliar room closed in as Columbus tried to focus. He took comfort in the fact that he’d followed all his rules, his door was locked, and windows securely boarded. No zombie could get in the house at any window or door without making a ton of noise and waking him up. Even Tallahassee, who slept soundly across the hall, couldn’t sleep through a shotgun firing. But Columbus wouldn’t shoot until he knew it really was a zombie in the hallway. And because his ammo had excellent penetration power, he’d have to move and aim so as to not kill Tallahassee through the walls.

So, he had to check it out and make the right moves. 

He opened the door slowly and looked towards the source of the heavy breathing.

There was a large silhouette in the dim hallway, standing with his back to Columbus, and leaning back and forth slightly. It was Tallahassee. Was he drunk?

Columbus’ heart seized in his chest. Had Tallahassee been… turned?

“T..Tallahassee?” he dared to call out.

The cowboy didn’t respond at first, but slowly turned around to face the source of the noise.

“What are you doing up?” Columbus tried.

Tallahassee walked slowly and unsteadily towards him, bare feet dragging on the ground. 

As he got closer, Columbus was relieved to see he was definitely still himself. His eyes were closed, face slack, and he was breathing deeply… He was sleepwalking!

“Tallahassee,” Columbus stage-whispered. “Please wake up, you’re freaking me out!” 

The older man still didn’t make any sign that he was awake. He continued to walk slowly up to Columbus, who pressed himself back into the doorframe to avoid being pushed over by the moving wall of semi-conscious cowboy. 

As soon as he shifted over, Tallahassee followed like a heat-seeking missile. Columbus was soon pinned next to the door as Tallahassee pressed in close, his entire body leaning over the younger man. He wore only boxers to bed, and Columbus got the full experience of his bare chest as it was pushed right against his face. He smelled good, freshly showered, and Columbus could feel his body heat. 

Tallahassee sniffed loudly. The older man kept Columbus pinned for a tense minute, continuing to breathe heavily as Columbus silently _freaked the fuck out_ beneath him. 

What kind of a situation was this to find himself in? 

He stole a glance downward, admiring Tallahassee’s light brown body hair and slightly bulging package concealed by silk sleep shorts. Columbus himself had a painful erection and he was thankful for the darkness, in case Tallahassee suddenly woke up and saw it through his sweatpants. Columbus wished the lights were on so he could see better, but the darkness made everything easier now that he had nothing to fear. 

After a couple more minutes of both men breathing deeply in an otherwise painful silence, Tallahassee made a disappointed huff, turned around, and stumbled back into his bedroom. 

  
  


Columbus breathed a sigh of relief. He grabbed himself through his clothes and waddled back into his room. _Fuck,_ that was close. He double-checked that he wasn’t dreaming by looking at his hands, palms and backs, studying them in detail before he got back in bed and jacked off for the fourth time that night.

  
  
  


* * *

It was a lovely, sunny morning, and Tallahassee sat in a beautifully designed kitchen with a cup of instant coffee. Generator power ran an electric griddle and a room heater, and the large house was decently cosy. There were plenty of blankets, and Tallahassee even found a pair of slippers that fit him, in the closet of the master bedroom.

“You were sleepwalking last night,” Columbus said as he entered. 

The cowboy’s reaction to this information was… interesting. He seemed to bristle and then got a defensive look in his eyes. Columbus’ curiosity was piqued. 

“Did you know you sleepwalk? It’s okay, I heard you walking around and I made sure you were safe.”

“You didn’t… You didn’t wake me up?” Tallahassee asked, uncharacteristically uneasy.

“Well, they say you should never try to wake someone who’s sleepwalking. They can go all psycho and attack you,” Columbus stated it as fact. 

Tallahassee soaked in the information, a thoughtful expression on his face, but his shoulders were still tense and bristly. “They say, huh?”

“Lucky I didn’t shoot you,” Columbus said. He gave the older man a little more space, and started looking through the kitchen cupboards.

“Well I don’t… I don’t remember anything about it. Thanks for not shooting me in my sleep, in any case.”

“Yeah it was super weird. You were breathing really loudly, which woke me up, then I saw you standing in the hallway outside my room… I thought you were a zombie for a hot minute.”

Tallahassee scoffed. “Gimme a break, kid.”

In the light of day, it did seem pretty silly. Columbus shrugged. 

“It might’ve been because you were in a strange house, so your body was restless and wanted to explore. You might consider locking your door to prevent yourself from getting into danger while you sleepwalk.”

Tallahassee rolled his eyes. “What if I have to take a leak and I can’t figure out the lock while I’m asleep?”  
  
Columbus blinked. “I hadn’t thought of that.”

“No way am I locking myself up, even if you think that’s the safest thing to do. Makes me feel trapped. I prefer to have options.”

“Well to tell the truth, I only lock it when I’m the sole occupant of the room.”

“That so?” Tallahassee nodded understandingly. “Okay. Now, what if, in a strictly hypothetical catastrophic scenario, I’m in trouble and I need your help, and I can’t get into _your_ room?”

“I’ll just wake up and answer the door,” Columbus said. Feeling brave, he continued, “Or what if we try bunking together but leave the door unlocked? It might be... safer?” 

A slight blush crept onto his cheeks. 

“Bunk with you? Y’know, I’m not the only one who snores,” Tallahassee countered. “You snore _loud_ while we’re out on the road.”

“Right, and _only_ on the road, because of my seasonal allergies-- the car doesn’t filter pollen out of the air very well at all.”

“Do you ever stop and just listen to yourself? You sound like a pharmaceutical commercial.” 

Tallahassee shook his head and laughed. 

Columbus chuckled, though it was a bit forced. He cleared his throat. 

“Can I get some of that coffee?”

Tallahassee poured him a generous mug and offered a seat at the breakfast bar.

Columbus accepted it gratefully.

As the younger man sat down and took a sip, the ever-straightforward cowboy asked, “Did you lose a lot of sleep over me?”

Columbus choked on his coffee.

  
  
  
  


  
  


* * *

  
  
TO BE CONTINUED


	2. Chapter 2

**CHAPTER 2**

  
  
  
  


Tallahassee and Columbus sat in adjacent lounge chairs in a dimly lit home theater room. 

They were two beers each, and half of a disney movie, into their second evening in ‘Château Logge’ as Tallahassee had affectionately named it. He’d marked the house on the only map he’d saved from when the con-sisters took the car with all of their stuff. 

In addition to using his current “Number 3” SUV like a mobile base, Tallahassee planned to find a few nice locations along the aimless trek westward, in which to stash useful items if they ever wanted to drive back east. He didn’t want to keep all his eggs in one basket, since the humiliating incident with the sisters. Tallahassee had been very sour for a few days after that, but since finding this house, his mood had improved greatly. 

Presently, he used a bulky remote to lower the volume of the animated film. He twisted around in his chair, then pulled a bottle of whiskey and two shot glasses from a box on the floor. 

He poured Columbus’ shot first, then his own.

Columbus was already plenty tipsy from the beers, but he didn’t refuse the offer.

He recalled the first drink Tallahassee had handed him, that he chucked out the car window and faked drinking. He had a reasonable fear of the older man back then, when they were strangers. 

It was amazing what a few weeks could do.

At the moment, Columbus couldn’t detect a hint of suffering on the older man’s face. It was nice to see him in good spirits, comfortable and relaxed, and not covered in gore.

“A toast. To all the shots we never had to take,” said Tallahassee.

“To the survivors,” Columbus added. 

They tapped the tiny glasses together before tossing them back. Columbus winced as the high-proof alcohol burned his throat and made his eyes water. But he didn’t want to cough and seem like a baby. He took controlled breaths through his nose and played it cool.

Tallahassee whooped softly and grinned at him.

The next words out of his mouth hit harder than the shot, in a completely different way.

“What's the best wet dream ya ever had?” 

Tallahassee’s accent got even thicker when he was drunk, making it hard to decipher at times. 

“Excuse me?” Columbus choked out, then had to cough after all. 

He recovered in the time it took for the other man to pop open two more cold beers. Tallahassee clumsily shoved the beer over his lap, nearly spilling it, but Columbus caught the bottle and held its neck tightly in his suddenly very sweaty hand. 

“Y’know, a _sex dream_ ,” Tallahassee repeated as if Columbus simply hadn’t heard him the first time. “Every guy has a few of ‘em, like from your teen years when the hormones and imagination are just goin’ all over the place. Usually starring Catherine Bach, or somethin’ like that?”

“I have no idea who that is,” Columbus admitted.

“Really? Well kid, you’re missing out. But answer the damn question.”

“I… don’t remember any,” Columbus lied.

“Bullshit!” The cowboy yelled, startling a tipsy giggle out of Columbus. 

“If we’re the las’ two men on earth, I’d still be here to call yer bullshit. We’ve been through enough together, you can be _gen-oo-eye’n_ with me. Who’m I gunna tell?”

“Okay. Guess I can appreciate that,” Columbus laughed. Alcohol colored his cheeks and made him feel loose and lightweight, in a good way. The cozy theater room, a nostalgic animated movie playing at low volume, and intimate conversation topics had him feeling like they were two kids playing ‘truth or dare’ during a slumber party. Columbus realized he felt truly safe for the first time in a long time.

“Okay. Give me a sec to think of one...”

“Well shit, ther’ you go. If you don’ have one that jus' _pops_ \--” Tallahassee snapped a finger, “--into your head like that, then yer already doin it wrong. Don’ think it too hard,” the cowboy slurred, in what he thought was a sage, knowledgeable tone of voice.

  
  


The only sex dream Columbus could recall was a pretty vanilla one that featured a blowjob given to him by an old high school crush, who in reality he’d never had a chance with. It had resulted in messy shorts during several nights. He’d always been embarrassed by that dream, and never told anyone about it. 

“The only one I can think of is… Well, I had a highschool crush, I think it was in senior year...”

“Oh, the golden years of youth!” Tallahassee cried passionately. “And what happened?”

“Well, we weren’t friends really, and we dropped out of contact--”

“No I mean in the dream! Did you fuck ‘er?”

Columbus, drunk and vulnerable as he was, had some difficulty answering that question.

He shrugged. “Well, no, it was just a… it was only oral sex.”

“Alright, still counts!” Tallahassee said, nodding. “I’ll accept it.”

Columbus didn’t want to divulge any more details about that particular dream. For one thing, the dream-figure giving him oral sex was a male assistant teacher he’d known in senior year of high school, but they never so much as exchanged two sentences all year. Columbus had a passing interest in the man, only lusting from a safe distance, but never consciously thought about having sex with him until the dream appeared out of nowhere.

The motivation behind it was tinged with loneliness and desperation, and looking back on it, seemed more unpleasant emotionally rather than sexy. Probably not one of the dreams Tallahassee was looking for.

Columbus poured himself another shot, taking some time to make sure his voice was steady. 

“And what about-- Cathleen Beck or whoever?”

“ _Catherine Bach_ . Go 'head look 'er up sometime, you will _not_ regret it.”

“You had any particularly good, uh, sex dreams?”

“Oh, sure. But you probably wouldn’t appreciate the… _nuance_ and _romance_ of ‘em. I’m kind of a sex dream _ar-tee-st_ ,” Tallahassee bragged, flourishing his beer like a paintbrush. It sloshed around dangerously.

“Oh yeah? Give us an example,” Columbus challenged. “I’ll give you the rotten tomatoes score.” 

“The hell're you talkin--?” Tallahassee took a long sip. “Nevermind-- Here goes one.”

  
  


Columbus listened with rapt attention despite his intense alcohol buzz. The adventurous cowboy’s erotic dreams were relayed, and true to his word, Tallahassee painted some vivid pictures. They all involved a lot of butts, and Columbus logged that information away for future reference. Tallahassee was apparently an ass man.

“But anyway. Those’re jus’ a few. Lately all I can dream about is finding those goddamn twinkies," Tallahassee despaired. "And every time I think I got ‘em, I wake up right before I can taste one! Guess I’m still chasing the dragon...”

“Maybe that’s what you were sleepwalking for? You got the midnight munchies.” 

Tallahassee chuckled. “Man, I wish. I could sure use a toke right now, though don’ get me wrong, the libations ‘round here ain’t bad.”

Columbus caught himself staring at Tallahassee’s mouth as he nursed his beer.

“I haven't given up trying to find some,” he said. “Twinkies I mean, not marijuana. We’re just not looking in the right places, uh, I think.”

“Y’know, I hadn’t figured twinkies would be on a looter’s most-wanted list, but then, here I am. The exception to the rule. Shit!” Tallahassee threw his empty bottle across the room.

Columbus laughed and watched him fondly.

Over the past week and a half, he'd learned a whole lot more about this man. He learned that people could change, himself included. He had no worries getting shit-faced and sharing very personal stories with Tallahassee, and it seemed like he truly enjoyed it. 

This was… good.

  
  


“Yer awful quiet. You feelin’ alright?”

“I’m-- oh, I’m actually feeling great. I was just... thinking.”

“Oh? Did my _epic_ dream journals leave an impression?” 

Tallahassee’s eyes were bright and filled with mirth.

“You could say they did,” Columbus said noncommittally.

“Is it time for _bed_?” Tallahassee asked with a waggle of his eyebrows.

Columbus’ rosy face turned a brighter red, which made Tallahassee laugh out loud.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


* * *

That night, a tipsy Columbus found himself in a familiar sex dream with that asisstant teacher. At first, everything played out just as it had in years past. Colmbus was sitting down in an empty classroom, and the handsome man was on his knees in front of him, unzipping his pants. 

And then the door banged open, shocking both of them.

“Columbus! The door was unlocked!” Tallahassee shouted. He stormed into the room. 

He wore nothing but cartoony heart-print boxers and a dark brown cowboy hat.

Addressing the assistant teacher, he jerked a thumb over his shoulder at the door.

“Get lost, Hughie.”

The submissive assistant teacher gave Columbus an apologetic glance, then hurried out of the room without a word. 

The door closed, and Tallahasssee locked it with a loud “click” before turning a scathing glare on Columbus. 

  
  


The younger man was frozen to his seat, pants still undone. He felt like he’d just been caught with his hand in the cookie jar. And yet, he was still at half-mast and climbing as Tallahassee approached him. The cowboy stood close, leaning over him.

“You tryna get some _action_ on school property? The door wasn’t even locked. You’re gettin’ sloppy, kid.”

Columbus couldn’t speak, he only stared up at the older man and waited for him to do something. The air felt heavy with anticipation, and tinged with fear like a static charge. 

“Well now we got some privacy to have a little… chat about your safety.”

Tallahassee pulled down the front of his shorts just enough to release his thickened, uncut cock and hairy balls.

“On your knees, now.”

Columbus slid down to the floor. With the warped dream-sensations coming through, he felt like he was watching over his own shoulder as the scene played out like an amateur porno.

Tallahassee wasted no time. He grabbed a fistful of Columbus’ curly hair with one steady hand. His other hand cupped his jaw and held it with two fingers curled inside his mouth, forcing it wide open. Then he pulled his head forward, and Columbus swallowed Tallahassee’s cock effortlessly.

“Hhnnh,” Tallahassee growled. “Oh, yeah...”

Columbus couldn’t believe he wasn’t choking, as the cowboy’s hot length filled his mouth, and then pushed even further down his throat. It seemed to expand, filling his senses. The shaft tasted slightly like honeydew melon, and smelled like whiskey. Dark blonde curls tickled his nose as Tallahassee held him immobile for a moment. 

He’d never been able to suck a dick to the hilt, let alone one as big as Tallahassee’s. The younger man felt pride and mounting pleasure as an ache deep in his core. 

His eyes rolled up to watch Tallahassee’s face. 

“That’s good, Columbus. Takin’ it like a champ,” Tallahassee murmured. He started to fuck Columbus’ mouth, steadily increasing in speed and enthusiasm. 

“Feels like your mouth was made for my cock. _Fuck_ yeah...”

His brows were knitted, breath heavy through clenched teeth, as he fucked Columbus’ throat faster and his balls slapped against his adam’s apple.

Columbus felt like he was being literally mind-fucked. As if Tallahassee’s cock took up all the room in his head, leaving no room for any other thoughts or concerns. He let the saturated dream-feelings wash over and consume his frantic ego.

“You’re gonna swallow everything I give ya, right Columbus?” 

Tallahassee seemed to push impossibly deeper with every thrust. 

Columbus obviously couldn’t answer, and he couldn’t even nod. He just gazed up at Tallahassee with heavy-lidded eyes.

“That’s good, boy... Here I come,” Tallahassee stilled and he groaned low. His cock pulsed as he came down Columbus’ throat. 

Though he hadn’t been touched, Columbus reached his peak simultaneously.

He spilled onto the floor with a shudder.

“That’s quite a load, ” Tallahassee observed. “Were you waitin’ that long for me?”

As the man’s cock softened in his mouth, the dream dissolved around them.

  
  
  


Columbus woke up in a daze. His bedsheets were soaked with sweat. He felt a fresh mess in his shorts and grimaced. He was a little shocked at his own desperation. The raw _ache_ of that dream… every detail had felt so real. _.._

_Fuck. I’m really in it now,_ he thought.

How would he be able to face Tallahassee after this?

  
  
  
  


* * *

  
  
  
  
  
  


The mess was no problem-- Columbus hand-washed all his clothes regularly anyway. As for the sheets, he just threw them away and grabbed a new set from a well-stocked linen closet.

The next challenge would be carrying on with Tallahassee as normal. 

  
  


Highlights from the very vivid and extremely stimulating dream sequence played full-screen in his head every few seconds, like an annoying pop-up. And he couldn’t even mute the sound.

Tallahassee sat at the kitchen table with a mug of coffee, a bag of caramel corn, and a paperback book. He looked up as Columbus entered.

“Mornin’ sunshine.” 

The casual greeting resounded with immediate clarity in Columbus’ fragile awareness. He held onto it, and onto the present, trying not to let the dream memories intrude on what should simply be a peaceful morning with a good friend.

Every time the dream images and sounds came back to him, his body responded with that _ache_. 

It wasn’t quite enough to give him an awkward boner at the table, but it was distracting as all hell.

Columbus sat down and poured himself a mug of coffee. Tallahassee appraised him out of the corner of his eye. Of course, he noticed immediately that something was off.

“Somethin’ got you spooked, kid? You look like hell.”

Columbus had prepared an excuse for this line of inquiry. 

“I didn’t sleep very well.”

“Mighta been the booze if you weren’t used to it.” 

“Not really, that was fine. I just had nightmares.”

“Ah, I see. I get those too sometimes.”

“Yeah, isn’t it weird?” Columbus chuckled nervously. “Bad dreams can still be so disturbing, even now that we have _real_ monsters to worry about. Lucky for us they can be defeated with conventional weaponry.” 

Tallahassee nodded. “That’s right. Nothin’ll get past us while I’m around. Wake me up next time if you’re havin’ trouble, all right?”

Columbus was struck by the genuine display of compassion. Tallahassee really cared about him enough to offer that? Maybe he was just joking. Or worse, maybe he was treating Columbus like a child.

“I wouldn’t want to disturb your beauty sleep,” Columbus deflected.

“Have you seen me? I don’t need another wink,” the cowboy smiled. 

Then he put a heavy hand on Columbus’ shoulder. “But hey, kid. I mean it. We’re in this shitstorm together, so we help each other out. I know you’d do the same for me.”

The hand on Columbus’ shoulder felt like a brand. The solid, warm weight lingered in a decidedly non-sexual way, but Columbus’ body responded with that same deep ache. 

His throat was immobilized with emotion, so he just nodded silently. 

“Don’t you worry,” Tallahassee reassured him.

When the hand was pulled away, the loss hurt. Columbus felt something desperately hungry inside that wanted to risk his entire relationship with this man for a chance at the fulfillment of a fantasy. The magnetizing dream-vision of Tallahassee in his mind ironically served to pull him further away from the real person sitting in front of him.

But maybe that was for the best. There was no way Tallahassee was gay, let alone attracted to him. Even worse, the man seemed to view him through a paternal lense. Wishful thinking could read deeper meanings into his comforting touches and promises, but Columbus knew better.

He withdrew as soon as it was socially acceptable to do so, then went to the bathroom to take his second cold shower of the day.

  
  
  


* * *

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


Four weeks since Columbus set out on his own, and about three since he met Tallahassee. 

Two weeks ago, they were swindled by two con-artist sisters.

Now, the odd couple was getting worried about their dwindling supplies. 

Their hunt wasn’t just for twinkies anymore. They’d left the first safehouse in search of more essential items, and found the pickings were slim. There was still a surplus of basic canned goods everywhere, which would expire in a year or two. They wouldn’t starve. Gasoline would be useless in another five months, so they had to figure out an alternative if they wanted to stay on the move in a vehicle. Ammo was in short supply, and not much else was worth the extra weight. 

  
  


After they left Château Logge, the following week passed in a whirlwind. 

  
  


They ended up stumbling into several dangerous pit stops, and with growing teamwork, dispatched dozens of zombies. Columbus preferred his shotgun for close quarters, and a decent rifle with a high-capacity magazine when they were out in the open. He and Tallahassee always fought back-to-back, and he made sure to keep an exit strategy ready at all times.

Tallahassee never let them get surrounded. The daring cowboy favored hand weapons over firearms for most scenarios, mainly to save ammo, but also to avoid drawing even more of the monsters with loud gunfire. He found and used shovels, axes, any manner of spiky instrument, various repurposed farming tools, the ol’ reliable baseball bat, and even bandsaw blades which were modified into garrotes. 

He wasn’t deterred by the zombie hordes, not in the least. 

During one altercation, Columbus watched the firey cowboy leap onto the back of a particularly burly zombie, riding it like a bucking bronco, until he used a thin saw blade to cleave its head off with savage glee. 

Columbus found himself gradually numbing to the gore, and focusing on Tallahassee’s enjoyment of it instead. The man _loved_ showing off. At one point, he’d exclaimed that he wished he’d started a kill count earlier. Columbus argued that it was better late than never, and he could just add a fair twenty or thirty to the starting count.

  
  


Still no signs whatsoever of other human life… Until they met the sisters again. 

  
  


It happened in a Wal-Mart Supercenter. They were doing a regular sweep through the semi-looted store. Barely a month since the outbreak, and most of human infrastructure was already broken down beyond repair. There hadn’t been time for looters to loot before they were zombified, so most stores were still stocked. The whole place reeked of rotten produce and various other dead and decaying things. Stray dogs, cats, rats, crows, opossums, coyotes, and other abundant suburban critters had already claimed much of the once human-occupied establishments. 

Columbus and Tallahassee entered the huge store quietly, searching for targets. The electricity was entirely out, so they used flashlights. They cleared each aisle one by one, and Tallahassee quietly killed the single zombie they encountered with an axe to the neck. He’d left his rifle in the car, but he always had his sidearm at his hip, and Columbus had his shotgun.

  
  


Wichita appeared in front of them, seemingly out of nowhere. She’d expected to encounter a gullible stranger and perform the same damsel-in-distress bit she’d successfully used before.

Now she kept a rifle trained on them.

Tallahassee had a bloody axe in his left hand, while his right hand rested on his holster, but he didn’t draw.

Tension held them in silence for several seconds.

“What’s it gonna be?” Tallahassee said impatiently. “You gonna shoot us?”

Wichita made intense eye contact with Columbus, who shook his head slowly.

“Can we all agree this is bullshit? We shouldn’t have to be enemies,” Columbus said.

When no one else spoke, he continued. “I know it sounds naive, but maybe we can just put the past behind us and help each other out?”

  
  


“I’ll ante up,” Tallahassee said at length. His right hand relaxed. “You can call me Tallahassee, and this is Columbus. Where you from?”

“I’m from… Wichita. And my sister is from Little Rock.”

“Pleasure to meet you,” Tallahassee said flatly. “You can lower that weapon now.”

Wichita lowered her rifle and slung it over one shoulder with familiar ease. 

“I would also like an apology,” Tallahassee added.

The woman looked from Columbus, back to Tallahassee, and then sighed.

“Sorry I took your stuff last time. I was just thinking of my sister.”

Tallahassee nodded slowly. “Okay. Apology accepted.” 

Columbus stared at him. Tallahassee was being uncharacteristically polite and level-headed. Was he playing around? But his expression was actually calm and respectful. It couldn’t be more different from the murderous glare he’d given Wichita when she’d tricked them the first time.

“Thank you for making the peaceful choice,” Columbus said. “And uh… it’s good to see you again.”

“You too I guess,” Wichita said. “Good to see you both still alive. I mean, what are the odds?”

  
  
  


They explained the terms of peacetime to Little Rock, who acted indifferent. But Columbus could see her eyes brighten. While it was difficult for Wichita to share her time and space with others, Little Rock didn’t have those reservations. She deeply missed the world and how it used to be, stupid people and all.

Even if they had to share some resources, no one could deny they’d all be safer traveling together. It was a better situation for Little Rock, so Wichita would go with it. 

  
  


Tallahassee found two small boxes of 9mm in the sporting goods section. He began to carry more goods out to the car, including a case of gin and four bottles of decent whiskey.

Columbus and the sisters inspected the store’s back offices with flashlights, searching for anything else of interest. Columbus summed up their journey thus far as he rummaged.

“We’re on the hunt for twinkies. I figure there will be some unexpired ones still salvageable up to a year from now.” 

“Twinkies…” Little Rock looked thoughtful. “An honorable goal.”

“I’ll let you know if we see any while we’re looting,” Wichita offered.

“Thanks. Tallahassee really wants them for some reason. He seriously can’t shut up about them.”

“Tallahassee does?” Wichita chuckled. “He’s an... interesting person.”

  
  
  
  


Once the entire store had been searched, and all doors checked, Little Rock took off to explore the place on her own.

“Is it okay for her to go alone?” Columbus asked.

“She’s armed,” Wichita confirmed. “And I taught her how to take care of herself if anything happened to me.”

“Right. But is that… is it really okay? I mean I could go with--”

“No, it’s good for her to get in some solo adventures while she can,” Tallahassee said.

“As if you know what’s good for her,” Wichita said icily. 

She didn’t trust them, and Columbus understood the feeling. It was also apparent that she was more on-edge when her sister wasn’t within view, and more easily riled up.

Unfortunately for everyone, Tallahassee rose at the barest hint of a challenging tone. 

“Is that right? Well you’re still just her sister, not her mother.”

Tallahassee was like an argument magician, making issues appear out of thin air. 

Wichita’s eyes remained locked on Tallahassee. She clearly saw the bait, but was too stubborn to take a detour. “I taught her everything I know, even before this whole thing started.”

“And where’s it got you, huh?”

Columbus looked between them. He recalled the Psychology 101 class he took in undergrad. These two people were both ‘alpha’ type personalities. They clashed like two lions destined to battle for control of the pride.

“Would you quit arguing already? There is seriously no point,” Columbus tried. 

He was pointedly ignored.

“I apologized for taking your car,” Wichita said. “Do you want that in writing or something? You don’t know us, or what we’ve lost along the way.”

“Could say the same to you,” Tallahassee said.

“We’ve survived using our wits. Do I need to remind you of how you were so easily conned last week?”

“ _That_ ,” Tallahassee said with a sigh, “Was two weeks ago. Assuming you’ve been keeping track. But two weeks in Zombieland might as well be two years.”

“Are you really going to have a pissing contest over who’s the worse off in a fucking zombie apocalypse?” Columbus shook his head. “You have to realize that we’re all lucky to be alive. And once the zombies are cleared out, we have almost the whole countryside to ourselves. Can you stop and appreciate that for a second?”

Tallahassee glared daggers at Columbus, but said nothing more.

“Fine, whatever.” Wichita plastered on a smile. “I’ll go catch up with my sister, then we’ll meet at the checkout.”

“Alright.” Columbus nodded as she left the office.

  
  


Tallahassee waited for her to leave earshot, then stepped into Columbus’ personal space. Immediately, Columbus sensed confrontation roiling the air around them. Tallahassee had been holding back, but now they were alone and he could be more honest with Columbus.

“The hell was that? You’re like a different person with her around.”

Columbus stood his ground. “What would you rather have me do? I’m just trying to put out _your_ fires.”

“I ain’t setting any fires! What the hell are you playin’ at?”

“I don’t have an agenda of any kind, if that’s what you’re concerned about. I just don’t understand why you had to push her buttons.”

Tallahassee sighed roughly. “When did your generation get so fuckin’ anal-retentive? Can’t a man have a _mood_ or an _opinion_?”

“Sure you can. But you also have to see it like this. They’ve been through hell, just like us. At the end of the day, we have to help them. Even if you hate it, it’s just… the human thing to do.”

“Is that right?” Tallahassee scoffed. “So everything we’ve done so far has been hell for you?”

“Well… no. Not every single thing.” Columbus deflated slightly. “A lot of it was actually pretty fun.”

“That’s what I mean,” Tallahassee confirmed. “An’ Whichita said herself that they’re fine on their own. Why do we have to disturb that whole hornets’ nest?”

“You’re right, we don’t have to. I just think you should consider their feelings, too.”

“I don’t give a shit about her feelings,” Tallahassee grimaced like he got a bad taste in his mouth.

Columbus blinked. “Okay… Well then do you care about my… About what I think?”

Tallahassee gave him a peculiar look, then. It was a searching look, calculating, but it had a touch of that fearful aggression that Columbus hoped he’d never see in his dark blue eyes again. 

“I do care,” the cowboy said quietly.

“Then…” Columbus took a breath. “What are you so afraid of?”

The vulnerability was there for anyone to see, until Tallahassee’s eyes flicked away. He put on a calm mask and remained silent for a long moment. He fished a toothpick out of his pocket, made a motion to bring it to his mouth, then stopped. 

When they locked eyes again, the older man had a new look of resolve.

“Columbus. I ain’t asking you to pick sides,” Tallahassee started, then, “Well actually. That is what I’m asking.” His deep blue eyes were steely with the barest hint of pleading. 

“Whose side are you on?”

Columbus was a little touched. He really was asking, and he’d let his walls down to do it. 

“We’ve been through a lot of shit, Tallahassee. You know I’ll always be on your side.”

In slow motion, Tallahassee grabbed Columbus’ right hand. He clasped it tightly and lifted it up against his heart. Then he moved in close and his other arm brought the younger man into a tight embrace. It was brief and rather fraternal, but it was a full-body hug and it sent a shiver of pleasure up Columbus’ spine. Tallahassee’s thighs pressed against his, and his chin stubble tickled the back of Columbus’ neck. 

The cowboy’s mouth drifted next to his ear.

“Rogers. That’s my last name.”

It was over in an instant, and Tallahassee pulled away. He exited the room with a confident step.

  
  
  
  


* * *

  
  
  
  
  
  


After the apocalypse took his only child, Tallahassee had pretty much given up on finding happiness in Zombieland. But it appeared that this fucked-up world still had some things to offer. 

He decided he wanted four things out of what remained of his life:

Kill zombies, find twinkies, stockpile booze, and get a blowjob. 

Fifty percent progress so far. But even if he could never again find a live human being whose mouth he trusted anywhere near his package, Tallahassee wasn’t about to clock out just as all the fun was starting. He counted his blessings. 

This rollercoaster of a day was turning out better than expected. He had just confirmed the loyalty of an ally who was bright, skilled in combat, and dependable. Not his very first choice in an apocalypse, but a decent one. 

Columbus had annoyed the shit out of him once or twice, but now Tallahassee found him endearing. They’d bonded despite their differences, and he had a good friend in Columbus. He appreciated that the young man didn’t shrink from difficult challenges and dangerous situations. It was also clear that Columbus trusted Tallahassee fully in those situations, and didn’t question his authority. 

As an added bonus, the young man was clever and, Tallahassee admitted, pretty cute. 

Columbus had a restless and energetic way of conducting himself that made Tallahassee want to grab him and press him into stillness. Columbus also kept a polite distance, which only made the older man want to invade his personal space at any opportunity. He’d caught himself staring way too often at Columbus’ rosy lips, and at the subtle lines of his figure. Once, Tallahassee had to conceal a hard-on while watching Columbus sitting on the floor in his boxers, loading some AR mags with quick, expert movements of his fingers. It was very hard to resist the urge to grab those capable hands and place them on his body.

  
  


It would’ve been awful if Columbus got eyes for Wichita, making him into a third wheel. But he had it from Columbus’ own lips that he had no agenda of the sort.

So where did that leave the two of them?

The cowboy was still hazy on how their friendship actually came to be. WIf he were Columbus, would he have made the same decision to stick around, given his own behavior? What if their roles were reversed, or one of them was unarmed? Would Tallahassee have treated himself as politely from day one? 

He couldn’t seem to formulate an answer, and that troubled him. Maybe he’d been too hard on Columbus. In truth, Tallahassee hadn’t expected the younger man to put up with him for _one_ week, let alone three. He thought they would’ve gone their separate ways a while back, but now they were partners and on a real-name basis. The bond of trust had been cemented, and Columbus had his respect. 

While Tallahssee assumed that Columbus wouldn’t respond well to overt sexual advances, he was still allowed to check out the ass of a man he _respected_ , right?

  
  
  
  


* * *

  
  
  
  
  
  
  


“Is everyone ready to go?” Columbus asked the assembled party at the front checkout.

“Think so. Got everything we came for?” Wichita asked her sister.

“Mission Status: Sick.” Little Rock announced, hefting a large backpack full of supplies that she’d gathered.

“I can help you carry that,” Columbus offered.

“I got it,” Tallahassee said, and took the backpack. He addressed Little Rock with a serious look. “Cover me on the way out, alright? Just watch yer muzzle sweeps. I’ll show you my new truck.” 

Little Rock glanced at her sister, who nodded permission. 

“I’ll take point,” the young girl confirmed.

  
  


Tallahassee walked off with Little Rock, slinging the backpack over one shoulder on the way out of the store. He kept his hands free just in case, but let Little Rock lead the way out with her rifle in hand.

Columbus watched Tallahassee… _Rogers_... affectionately until he was out of sight.

“That was a really cool move,” he said softly. 

Tallahassee didn’t have to go that far, but true to his ‘extra’ character, he was showing off his commitment to the fledgling peace and cooperation they founded. He recalled the important handshake, and the hug that sealed it. Tallahassee thought of him as a real partner.

Columbus became aware of Wichita regarding him with an odd smirk on her face.

He just gave her a puzzled look.

“Don’t worry, I won’t say anything about you and him,” she said evenly.

“Wh-what?” A blush crept onto Columbus’ face. “Say what to who? What about? What do you think there is to say?” He blurted the string of half-formed questions. 

Wichita shook her head. “Nothing, it’s fine...”

“Please don’t fuck with me,” Columbus wailed. 

“Not me, brother. But... Tallahassee?” she shrugged.

Columbus could not believe that Wichita had seen enough to assume he and Tallahassee were… 

He ran a hand down his reddened face, exasperated. “Is it really that obvious?”

“Not really, I just notice these things. But, Columbus, can I ask what’s up? I thought he was a huge jerk.”

“He _was_ , he really was. But I guess... not anymore.” Columbus shook his head in disbelief. “I’m sorry, I’m just... honestly just as surprised as you are.”

He took a deep breath, and let it out slowly. “Do you think he’ll notice? Catch me looking like a… a lovestruck schoolgirl?”

Wichita chuckled at that. “Oh no, he is _painfully_ unaware.” 

“Fuuuck...” Columbus groaned under his breath, rubbing his brow. He could feel a tension headache coming on.

“You can’t mean you _want_ him to notice?” Wichita said.

Columbus grimaced as he looked up. “I’m... not sure.” 

“ _Yikes,_ well... Good luck with that,” Wichita patted him on the shoulder. “C’mon, let’s get the rest of the supplies.”

  
  
  
  
  
  
  


* * *

  
  
  
  
  
  
  


They were fifty miles from the nearest gas station when the check engine light came on.

Tallahassee frowned down at the dashboard as he drove. It was getting late into the afternoon, and they were in the middle of nowhere in Kansas, about ninety miles north of Dodge City.

“Now I don’t wanna alarm anyone,” he said, “But we may need to find a different vehicle sooner than expected.”

“Do you want to set up camp for tonight and start for Colorado at sunrise?” Columbus asked.

Tallahassee nodded. “Let’s find us a nice little farmhouse to ransack.”

  
  
  


In half an hour, they found one. Just in time for the sun to dip below the flat, bare horizon. 

The modest country home was a little dirty, and the kitchen smelled vaguely rotten, but it was definitely better than camping outside. No zombies were found on or around the property, and there were no signs of struggle or looting. Only some emaciated goats wandered around the outskirts of the yard in the fading dusk. The house had its own rainwater collection unit that supplied a generous trickle of running water, and there was a coin-toss for who got to use it first. A lukewarm shower was appreciated by all.

After a canned but satisfying dinner, the group made a small fire on the porch and roasted marshmallows that Little Rock provided from her ‘secret stash’.

  
  


“I think we’ll sleep in the car,” Wichita said with a yawn. “This place looks like a horror movie set. And I don’t want to get bedbugs.”

“Suit yourself,” Tallahassee said. “How about you, Columbus?”

“I’ll sleep inside if there’s room.”

  
  


There was a single bedroom with two twin beds that looked clean enough.

“Left or right?” Columbus asked unnecessarily, as Tallahassee was already flopping down on one of the slightly dusty beds.

“Not too bad,” the cowboy sighed as he tested the creaking box-spring mattress. 

“Be up at six sharp, and we’ll hit the road at seven.”

“Sounds good.” 

Columbus sat down on the adjacent bed with a heavy sigh. 

He held his hands out flat in front of him, noting that they trembled slightly more than usual. He clenched them into fists, and then stood to examine a sparse bookshelf on the other side of the room.

He hadn’t been in close quarters with Tallahassee like this for a while. The only times they’d shared a room overnight were in combat situations where they slept in shifts. Now they found themselves in a tiny, private box with hundreds of miles of open space around them. The silence was oppressive and the close proximity was a little stifling. 

Tallahassee stripped to his boxers, while he watched Columbus over his shoulder. The young man seemed more nerve-wracked than usual, and Tallahassee recalled he’d been acting strange since they left their first safehouse over a week ago. It hadn’t concerned him then, but now he was given pause. Columbus was not only more uptight, but also trying to hide it more stubbornly. Not a very healthy combo, and in Tallahassee’s book, a quick recipe for disaster. Columbus might become sleep-deprived, moody and sluggish, and not as reliable in the field. If they got in over their heads tomorrow, they couldn’t count on the sisters in a pinch. They could only rely on each other, and now that Columbus was his _official_ ally, if he had a problem, they both did. 

Tallahassee held one overarching principle of honesty and self-expression. It wouldn’t do to have a partner who bottled up his demons and swept issues under the rug. It was Tallahassee’s firm belief that people should face their issues head-on, or those issues would come back around and fuck them over.

He mentioned as much to Columbus, in what he considered to be a calm and mentor-like way.

Columbus picked up a book and feigned interest at the contents. He didn’t look Tallahassee in the eye as he answered. 

“I was a little depressed. End of the world and everything, you know? It’s really not a big deal. I’m fine, just... I’m tired.”

“Can I help you sort through anything?”

While Columbus’ heart swelled at another open offer of personal help from Tallahassee, he remained guarded. He had to protect himself emotionally, and above all, keep his desires for the man hidden, even if it made him seem sullen and depressed. 

“I don’t think you should help this time.”

“You know if you clam up, you’ll just make me more determined to pry in and get to the bottom of things.”

Columbus bristled. “I’m not a puzzle that you can solve. I’m a person. People have to have boundaries to coexist in peace.”

Tallahassee nodded. “Alright, let’s say that _was_ true. Society as we knew it no longer exists. We don’t have to follow their playbook anymore. Does your own list of rules say anything about our partnership?”

“That’s not… Well, I guess, the rules aren’t complete. I wrote them when it was just me. I never considered I’d have a partner, so there are no rules reflecting that… yet.”

Tallahassee got up and crossed the room to rest a hand on Columbus’ shoulder.

“You might be more at ease if we made a new rule. Something like… No man left behind? How’s that sound?”

Columbus placed the book back on the shelf and looked up at Tallahassee. He swallowed, forcing his voice to stay level. “Sure. How about… Rule number twenty-nine: Always use the buddy system.”

“Sounds good, partner.” Tallahassee patted him on the back, then gave his bicep a solid squeeze. Columbus couldn’t suppress a wince at that, which Tallahassee saw.

“Oop, ‘lil too hard? My bad. I forget you’re on the fragile side.”

Columbus blushed.

“... No offense meant,” Tallahassee added, reading his reddened cheeks as annoyance.

Columbus, feeling a little more comfortable now, tested Tallahassee’s bicep with one hand. The cowboy flexed his arm to show it off more. 

“Jesus, have you been eating steaks while I’m not looking? How do you keep this up?”

Tallahassee beamed at the praise.

His smile was like cleansing sunshine. Columbus basked in it and forgot his troubles for a few seconds while he felt up Tallahassee’s muscles.

“Now you show me what you’re workin’ with.”

Columbus rose to the challenge, stripping off his shirt and flexing his arms and abs as hard as he could. He struck a few poses for good measure.

“Not bad! I’m seein’ lots of potential. A little weight training and you could be on my level in no time.”

“I doubt it, but thanks,” said Columbus. “A vote of confidence from you is all the gains I need.”

“But imagine it. The two of us, all beefed up? Even if we run outta ammo, those zombie fucks won’t stand a chance. We’ll use our bare hands and just knock their heads together like a couple’a ripe watermelons.”

“Maybe you could help me with some forms before we head out tomorrow?”

“How about right now?”

A warm, strong hand curled around Columbus’ bicep. He’d been avoiding Tallahassee’s eyes, but they locked together all of a sudden. Time froze as Columbus considered the fact that it sounded like the older man was flirting with him. And if that was the case, he just gave him an open invitation. 

But … he had to be imagining it.

Columbus looked away. 

  
“It’s probably getting a bit late if we’re supposed to be up at six.”

A moment passed.

“Sure thing, Columbus.” Tallahassee gave his shoulder a light slap. “G’night.”

Long after they retired, Columbus lay awake listening to Tallahassee’s deep, even breathing. It was a comforting sound, but inner turmoil kept him from rest. 

“How about right now?”

The way Tallahassee had said that… His voice was low, calm and normal. A completely innocent phrase. The words echoed in Columbus’ mind, the scene repeated over as he analyzed it, ringing with apprehension. The jury was still out. 

Columbus didn’t fall asleep for a long while.

* * *

  
  
  


CHAPTER 3 - COMING SOON  
Updated: May 1, 2020


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